


One Sock

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, Googly Eyes, Oh, Remus Lupin & Nymphadora Tonks Live, SEVERUS SNAPE IS A SOCK PUPPET, Ummmm...I got nothing, some minor pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: Severus Snape is punished in his afterlife.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 24
Kudos: 24





	One Sock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pronunciation_Hermy_One](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pronunciation_Hermy_One/gifts).



> Okay guys. This fanfic is from 2007. 13 years ago. I didn't even remember that I had written it (let alone posted it) and apparently I did so for Pronunciation_Hermy_One based on a prompt she provided me..."Sock Puppet, Remus and Severus post Deathly Hallows."
> 
> Basically what I'm telling you is that this is crack. Intentional, ridiculous crack. It's not beta'd (because why would I even?) and it's... well... you'll see.

"Good morning, sunshine." Remus smiled and lifted Severus from the sock drawer, taking care to pinch the top of his twisty tubes which hurt like hell.

Severus Snape had been dead for a total of nineteen years and _this_ was how he had to be greeted _every_ morning? Was this his damnation for the life he had chosen to live? Try to appeal to the greater good and wind up a sock puppet for a wizard he loathed?

"I believe it's time for the wash, Severus. The fabric softener smell is wearing off."

What Severus wouldn't give to make some nasty retort. But his afterlife was reduced to that of a puppet. And his Master only allowed him to speak when his hand was up inside him. Severus' googly eyes danced around, and he tried to show the resentment he felt. Nothing was more humiliating than... _the wash_. His naked, sock-body displayed for the world to see... the _undead_ world. Those who haunted his afterlife.

"We'll have an extra spin cycle today, mate." Remus sauntered to the open wash and tossed Severus in, ignoring the way his pulped-paper mouth crumbled into a grimace. "And, Tonks bought some new Linen Fresh detergent with matching softener. You'll be sparkly clean, Severus. Always clean for our little games."

The lid closed and the water began to pour in. Severus had long forgotten what breathing felt like, however the feel of the bubbly soap mixing with the glue holding his eyes in place was highly irritating. He felt them turning red, though on the outside, his little puppet exterior just swiveled in the wash, waiting for the water and soap to be emptied.

Grey. He was grey. The Gods had truly damned him and his horrid life. Severus' paper lips shrunk into his face, his twisty tube hair fell over his big, bouncy black eyes. The water lowered and his open-ended body found solace on the holey ceramic floor. Now he had to wait. It was time... _for the dryer_. If only he could express his disappointment, instead of lying uselessly at the bottom of the wash until his Master came to retrieve him. He stared up at the lid, losing himself in the sense of peace that fell over him in the dark, silent basin.

No matter how often he heard the loud ding of completion, it still jolted his mind. He knew what was coming... the high heat- _energy saving_ -spin cycle and then the lint trap of the tumble-dryer. Light greeted him for the second time that morning as Remus opened the washer, same, horrible smile plastered across his lips.

"Oh no," Remus assured him happily, reaching down to grab Severus by his side, reveling in his limp sock-body. "No dryer for you today. Tonks is feeling, well..."

The only way Severus could roll his eyes was if Remus would move him a little too quickly, up and down. And still, it wouldn't show his utter annoyance at his new forever. He hung loosely in Remus' fingers, his eyes now directed at the walls he was passing by. It wasn't until they made a sharp left that he realized they were headed to the bedroom. And then his eyes caught something sinful. A tease. He shouldn't have been shocked; it happened Every. Bloody. Day.

Tonks was laying naked on the bed.

Naked, bar one sock.


End file.
